Page 47 of Sanctuary After Dark

But to me? It meant the world.

"Sweetheart, are you ready?"

Blinking my eyes, I turned to look at Lincoln, who was sitting beside me on the couch. He was rubbing my back gently in soothing circles while Lucas sat on my other side and held my hand. Alec sat diagonally from us on the sectional couch, just waiting patiently while I prepared myself.

We had been doing a lot of exposure sessions these past few weeks, and they ranged from simple ones, like observing Masters and Mistresses and their slaves, or watching obedience training with the pups. To more intense sessions, like suspension bondage or impact play.

But today was going to be a hard one, and we all knew it, which was why it was taking me longer than usual to prepare myself for it mentally.

Today, I would come face to face with a St. Andrew's Cross.

While I had been here, they had kept them all in storage because it was one of my biggest triggers. Just seeing one could send me into a debilitating panic attack. Memories of the times I was tied to one and tortured rushed back to me.

Scratching at the scars on my wrist, I took a shaky breath and nodded. Lucas gently took my hand away so I wouldn't scratch myself raw.

"We'll be with you the entire time, little bunny. You can safeword anytime you want, and we'll get you out of there and all bundled up with us for some cuddles. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

Lincoln pressed a kiss to my head and squeezed the back of my neck.

"No matter what, we're proud of you, mo laoch."

"What… what does that mean? Mo laoch?"

Lincoln smiled and brushed his thumb along the side of my neck before he leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine.

"It's Gaeilge for my warrior."

He kissed the tip of my nose, and I watched as he stood up, offering me his hand. I took it and stood with Lucas right next to me, placing his hand on the small of my back. Just having them here with me calmed me some, but I was still nervous. I was still scared.

We followed Alec to the bondage haven room where they set it up earlier.

I didn’t see it at first. The brightness of the room too distracting to me.

The large windows that overlooked the backyard and all the trees. The sheer curtains blowing in the breeze from the opened windows. The soft music playing in the background. My shoulders loosened a fraction as we walked further into the room.

I always loved the bondage haven room and how light and airy it was. It’s like it promoted a sense of peace with the warm colors, natural light, and neutral color schemes, with splashes of color here and there. It's probably why they chose it for this session.

I could smell the scent of rain in the air too and it was almost fitting in a way that there was a storm on the horizon as I faced my biggest trigger.

Then I turned, and there it was.

The St. Andrew’s Cross stood against the far wall, all clean lines and dark wood with a thin layer of padding on the arms. Soft-looking leather cuffs hung from the top and bottom. The sun coming through the windows fell on it and illuminated its frame.

Just another piece of furniture.

But my lungs forgot what they were supposed to be doing.

It happened slowly. It wasn’t loud. That’s the thing people don’t understand about anxiety. Panic doesn’t always crash in like thunder or a tidal wave. Sometimes it slips in quietly, like a draft under a door, until suddenly it’s everywhere and you don’t know which way is up.

My chest tightened first.

Then my throat.

My palms start to sweat and then shake.

My legs felt as though they were cemented in place.